The Interview
by Chad-Pendragon
Summary: Our character interviews a man, not knowing where it will lead. Vampiric. Written by Pendragon
1. The Turn

The Interview  
  
"I'm not evil you know" He leaned forward slightly, placing an elbow precariously on his knee. "To have this detachment that I have, it goes beyond evil"  
  
"Really?" She paused to scribble his words onto the notebook she clutched in her other hand, before looking at his face again "I guess I always assumed that your kind was, well, inherently evil."  
  
"That was something I struggled with when I was" He paused "How is the best way to put it, changed?" He nodded to himself "For awhile I despised myself, but I loved myself at the same time" Turning his head slightly, he stared out of the window, stared into the streetlight that cast its soft glow onto the darkened street. "Do you understand?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'll try to explain. My life is full of eras, when one finishes, another begins and I am forced to submit, to change, or face estrangement from reality. These eras, they make me what I am, but the way I think changes when one begins and one ends." Casting his glance to the floor, he toyed with a button "But the fundamental thing, the defining thing, is that these eras begin and end at the whim of my thinking. They are only eras because of the method of my thoughts." He cast a questioning glance in her direction "Is it clearer now?"  
  
She shook her head, not looking up at him as she bent over her notebook.  
  
"When I was. Changed. I hated myself. I saw myself as evil. I wanted to die, but was unsure about whether I could die. I hid. I fed off of rats and small animals, perhaps cows, if I felt forced to do so. It was the arrival of a man - perhaps calling him a man is somewhat inaccurate. He was a werewolf, but gentle, and felt determined to steer me away from self- destruction. We sat for hours and talked, not in the hasty way of mortals these days, but in the steady pace of two people who have eternity, and thus can throw away the compulsions that so often ruin dialogue." He paused to cough slightly, then continued "During these long conversation, I realised that what my life - perhaps even unlife - meant, was not evil, that I was not cursed, but that a measure of love could enter my life. Was there something you wished to ask me?"  
  
"No. No." She whispered, hanging on his every word.  
  
"I could see it in your eyes. Ask your question"  
  
She acquiesced "You speak of love. Did you love this werewolf?"  
  
"Ah, such a heady question!" He looked at her face for a moment, before continuing "The understanding of love that I hold close in my mind is quite different to that which you, and mortals like you, quest for. Mortals, in my experience, are quick to confuse love with lust, the organic attraction between two people is often what you would label love. For me, love became something intangible, yet I could now easily reach out and grasp it" He clenched one hand into a fist for emphasis "In words that you can understand, I loved him as a brother, yet it was much more. It's beyond your comprehension, so I will let that explanation suffice."  
  
She nodded, attempted to give the impression that she understood.  
  
"The time he was with me, that was a time of love. When he left me, I realised that all love I had for life disappeared." He stopped again "You have another question"  
  
This time, she didn't try to hide it. "Yes. You lost all love for life?"  
  
He nodded, a quick jabbing motion downward, then up again "Through our conversations, I learned to love life again, it was almost like being mortal again. Any affection I had for my surroundings faded when he left me." He turned his gaze on her  
  
Looking away, she asked simply "Why?"  
  
"He opened my eyes. Can you imagine being blind, and suddenly being able to see again?" Seeing her understanding, he continued "And when he left . it was like being plunged into darkness. In reality, I did plunge into darkness. I started to kill.  
  
The savageness with which he had uttered that last word forced the girl back into her chair. "K-kill?" She whispered.  
  
"Yes kill. I killed with abandon, letting all semblance of mortal self control fall behind me." He looked once more out of the window. "For those like me, the kill is indescribable, it embodies a bliss so complete; to feel your heart beat in time with theirs, to feel your flesh heat, for life to return for one fragile moment. For you to understand, I would put it beyond sex."  
  
He was about to say more, but she interrupted "But you said you didn't kill"  
  
He looked at her, mocking. "I lied" moving faster than she could see; he had her neck, and lifted her clear of the seat she sweated in. Twisting her from left to right, he examined her neck as she kicked at him, one hand grabbing at her hands, and the other struggling with something in her pocket. "What a prize this is! A vampire witch! We will do great things, my dear," She was gasping against his fingers, vainly attempting to breathe. "Don't try and use your wand on me, I am more powerful than you can imagine, let alone deal with." He leaned forward, and slowly sunk his teeth into her neck. Feeling the bliss of that moment, he drank just enough to bring her to the point of death, and then scratched a line along his wrist, bringing it to her lips.  
  
"Drink" He commanded, and she did. "You will live. I'm right you know" He spoke now, more to himself than her "We will do great things together, Hermione. 


	2. The Feast

**The Interview – Chapter II**

            p"Can you smell that?" he asked her, as he tightened the bonds holding their prey to the chair./p

pThe prey—she would not describe him as mortal; she would not do it, she _couldn't_. She would do it no more than she would bite her own arms off. The prey struggled weakly against the leather straps that held him. When she looked into his eyes she could see his fear framed there, as sweat dripped from his forehead. Were she mortal, she would have placed the label of Muggle upon him, but deadened with this dark apathy as she was, she saw no purpose in doing so, he was only the prey to her/p

p "Yes," she answered. Of course she could smell it—it hung on the air, filling the atmosphere with its sticky presence; it made her muscles tense, made her throat move compulsively. It was blood. /p

            p "It is better to build the hunger inside you, increase the temptation, the anticipation." His voice filled the heavy silence in the dark room. "How do you feel? Does it hurt yet?" /p

            p "I'm hungry. The wait is painful. Let us do it now," she answered, never taking her eyes off of the young man tied to the chair in front of her. /p

            p "Contemplate, for a moment, on the pain inside of you. It is important, at this early stage, to know your limits." He looked out of the window, gauging with senses no mortal possessed the time left to them before the sun rose. /p

            pShe whipped her head around, locking her eyes upon him for the first time since entering the room "Limits? Explain," she bit out. /p

            p "Ah, my dear Hermione, it is simply this: you must know how long you can wait to drink before your strength fades, before you succumb to the forces that will and have battled against you since your body died. On the other hand, the blood tastes so much better if you wait," he looked out the window again, and nodded to her. Waving his hand in a theatrical movement, he motioned her forward to drink. /p

            pGliding forward across the cold stone floor, she sat on her prey's lap in a purely sexual motion that made her prey's eyes widen in surprise, and then fall back into his head. Stroking a hand along the profile of his chin, she took a minute to examine his neck, leaning back from him, with her arms laced around the back of his neck. She opened her mouth enough to reveal the sharp incisors that were the hallmark of her race, and then with a sharp juddering motion, she fell forward against him and sunk those deadly teeth into his neck. His eyes flew open as she collapsed further against him in a swoon. For her, it was a sensation beyond anything she could describe, anything she had ever experienced before. Her heart fluttered faster, beating now in time with his as he struggled to live. She exulted as his heart beat faster and faster, bestowing upon her more of this ecstasy that made her limbs jerk, that made her body flush with heat, made her feel mortal. /p

pWith a mental wail, she realised that it was coming to an end. His heart was slowing, his body cooling. She felt a hand grip her shoulder, and a voice warn her that if she did not draw herself back, she would be pulled into death along with the prey that hung limply in the chair beneath her. /p

            pShe came back to herself, feeling weak, but also infinitely stronger than she had been before the feeding. "More," she whispered, before sliding backwards onto the floor. /p

            p "No," he replied.  "You took a full measure from our dead friend there, and if you drink any more, you will become sick." He squatted down, and stroked her cheek. "Rest assured, my sweet, there will be other feasts." /p


End file.
